Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight series and am not Stephenie Meyer.
A/N – Yes, it's here! And yes – it's cut short!
It was just so ridiculously LONG that I knew it would be better to split it up. :) But don't worry – I have the next chapter ALREADY WRITTEN! It's being posted TOMORROW (if I have Internet access tomorrow, which I should. Unless my house blows up or something). I know – don't you all just love me right now? :)
Referenced information on the Timeline on Twilight Lexicon: 1927 – the year Edward started his rebellion (I just used the year instead of saying 'my rebellion' fifty-thousand times over, :D).
Anyway – I'm evil, aren't I? Making you wait an entire twenty-four hours for the next update? :)
Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Twenty-Six: Confessions
Bella's house was quiet as I approached, save the steady and faint beat of her heat. I could hear it, even from the woods. She seemed to be on the second floor of her home, most likely in either her bathroom or bedroom.
I paused outside for a long moment, gazing up at the sky. The cloud cover was sparse, and fading away even as I watched. We would have to head out right away, if we didn't want to get caught in the sunlight before reaching the meadow.
Then, sighing, I approached the front door. She was alone in the house: Chief Swan's cruiser was already gone from the driveway. That left only the old, red truck parked and waiting for the two of us. Moving silently up the front steps, I finally raised my hand to knock on the door, being careful of my strength as I did so.
I could hear her feet suddenly moving faster against the floor, and her heart rate had jumped up a notch as well. The reminder of how inhuman I was, to be able to hear her body's reactions through several walls and a door, made my lips tighten and non-beating heart grow heavy.
The dead bolt seemed to cause her a bit of trouble, which still wasn't quite enough to pull a smile to my face. Then the door was open, and there was nothing separating the two of us from one another any more. Her hair was slightly tossed, as if she'd stumbled – or rushed to see who was on her doorstep.
My eyes traveled down her body, making sure that she was all right and hadn't fallen before I arrived. Knowing Bella, she would have tripped and fallen at some point this morning, if she had been running around her house like I'd just heard.
It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. And then I couldn't help but laugh – I could definitely trust Alice to have manipulated me. "Good morning," I chuckled, seeing her blue jeans, topped with a tan sweater under which the white collar of a shirt peeked out. Her outfit matched mine perfectly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning and looking down.
"We match," I explained, laughing when a sudden comprehension dawned on her face. She joined my laughter, even as something shaded her eyes darkly. What was it? Perhaps nothing, but I wasn't positive.
Backing away from her door, I headed toward her car and heard the snick of metal against metal as she locked the door to her home. I wondered if this would be the last time she ever saw the house. And then I wondered if she was thinking of that very same thing; I decided that she might be but odds were, she wasn't thinking along those lines. She still had a ridiculous faith in my strength of mind, and believed that I wouldn't harm her. She was foolish.
I almost headed toward the driver's side when I realized that I had made an agreement with Bella over this particular detail of the day. Swallowing everything in me that demanded I take control over the car, I headed toward the passenger's side of the vehicle and watched her as she headed toward the driver's seat, wishing that we could switch places.
Her eyes glowed slightly as she met mine. "We made a deal," she said smugly, obviously happy to lord her control of this morning's transportation over me. Biting my tongue, I allowed her to unlock my door and climbed in beside her. Then, once we were both inside the small, cozy compartment of the truck, she asked, "Where to?"
I eyed her warily and decided to tease in order to get my point across. "Put your seat belt on – I'm nervous already." Any type of safety feature that I could enforce today was a good one. There was enough danger already without adding anything unnecessary.
She wasn't happy about it, and gave me a look to prove it. But she complied with my request before repeating herself. "Where to?"
"Take the one-oh-one north," I told her. My stomach was somehow twisted with nerves: this was yet another step of many that would take her to the brink of so much danger…
Bella drove carefully through the tiny town of Forks, and I watched her the whole way. I committed her face to memory, just on the off chance that something did happen. Just in case this was the last time I would see her alive.
And if I ended up murdering her, then I deserved no less than to remember it for the rest of my existence. All those lives I had taken while rebelling against Carlisle's doctrines had not left faces imprinted in my memory. They had been monsters, and I had not been willing to remember what they had thought, much less looked like.
But Bella…if I hurt Bella, it was no more than I deserved to remember every little thing about her. I could keep her memory alive, in a way. And I would make sure that the monster that had killed her – myself – would never forget it.
My dark thoughts were pushed back as I flicked my eyes from her to the road, just realizing how slowly we were traveling. "Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"
"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather – have some respect," she retorted, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Soon enough, we were out of the town limits and I was telling her, "Turn right on the one-ten." She did so. I added, "Now we drive until the pavement ends." The echo of the directions I had given Carlisle earlier made me feel slightly more saddened. I desperately hoped that I wouldn't end up disappointing my father.
Bella distracted me from my thoughts unintentionally. "And what's there, at the pavement's end?"
"A trail." We wouldn't be traveling on the trail, of course, but it would be fine. I knew that I could keep Bella and myself safe in the forest, from anything that might be a danger to her – except myself, if it came to that.
"We're hiking?" She sounded extremely displeased about the prospect – finally, a little less than enthusiastic about our expedition. It really was a shame that her lack of fervor was about the most mundane, safe part of the whole situation.
At the same time, I had already expected Bella to be less than happy about hiking. Seeing her clumsiness and serious lack of hand-eye coordination in athletics, it was only to be expected that she viewed any type of physical activity with something falling far short of enjoyment. "Is that a problem?"
"No." Her confidence rang false to my ears.
"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry." I watched as her face slowly morphed: the crease between her eyebrows deepened, and the once subtle disappointment changed into a much stronger dread. I was thankful that her reaction hadn't become downright fear. But all the same, I didn't like the look on her face.
The near panic didn't truly fade, even though she tried to hide it. Her expression shifted while she attempted to cover up what she was really feeling, but I could tell it was still there. And I had hoped she would reveal more verbally after a minute of silence, but she had not taken advantage of the opportunity I was giving her.
After a moment, I realized that I was a fool for thinking that Bella would willingly offer up information about herself without prompting. Annoyed at my lack of insight, I asked her, "What are you thinking?"
"Just wondering where we're going," she lied again. I was willing to bet that she was worried about the hiking itself, and if she would be able to make it when she was hardly able to keep up in her physical education class.
At least I could return that information with the truth, even if she hadn't reciprocated it. "It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." Glancing out the window, I noted that the thinning cloud cover was almost burned away.
"Charlie said it would be warm today," she said with an air of vague awareness. I wondered for a moment if she even meant to say that out loud, considering our discussion yesterday about Charlie knowing – or not knowing – where she would be today.
But she had provided me with the perfect opportunity to bring it up. "And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?"
"Nope." She sounded far too happy about that for my liking.
Thank goodness for small mercies. "But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" Although, considering that it was Jessica Stanley who was the girl in question there, I wasn't entirely positive that was a good thing in the long run. For now, at least, it was a good enough incentive.
Until Bella burst my hopeful little bubble with, "No, I told her you canceled on me – which is true."
Now I was angry. "No one knows you're with me?" Was she trying to get herself killed?
Was she trying to make me lose control? "That depends…I assume you told Alice?" she replied.
Frustrated, I snapped, "That's very helpful, Bella." She was going to get herself killed, and I'd be the one killing her. "Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" No, I reminded myself snidely, grimly. That would be me, wouldn't it?
Her tone was meant to be soothing, meant to make me see her reasoning. "You said it might cause trouble for you…us being together publicly."
She was insane. That was the only explanation for this irrational behavior. "So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me – if you don't come home?" I stressed my words with purpose, biting out my sarcastic retort and trying to make her understand how out of line her actions were. She had to think about herself, not me. I'd be fine, stuck in immortality. She'd be dead.
Instead of answering, she simply nodded in response to my angry words. The crease between her eyebrows was back, and her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was obvious that she didn't want to hear anything more I would have to say.
Well, I'd be proving her right or wrong today. And either way, she'd understand something – either that I was more dangerous than she had bothered to try comprehending, or that she was right and in that case, would make herself even more of a target for my thirst if she survived past these hours alone with me.
And, also either way, my inner monster would have a say in this decision. I just hoped that it wasn't a large one. "It would be nice if you didn't tempt me into being a murderer again, Bella," I muttered, too fast for her to hear what I was really saying. But, of course, the problem there was that I had been a murderer before.
Taking human lives was not something anyone with a conscience could just get over. It wasn't something that was done lightly, either. There had to be motivation, and there had to be purpose. Mindless, thoughtless violence – that never actually happened in real life. I knew: I had seen enough of it in the minds of the serial killers and rapists. Even if it was through twisted logic, or by haunting pathways in the brain through which memory could be erased after an event – there was always a motivation, a reason.
The reason didn't always make sense, just as the reasoning behind it was convoluted and wrong. But to the human, to that particular mind, it made sense. It was right. It wasn't immoral, unjust or wrong. Violence…it always had a cause and effect. It would always be, no matter how many ways humans attempted to stamp it out. Choice would always be choice.
And it had been my choice to hunt humans during those dark times. It had been my decision that had lead to the deaths of countless people – who, yes, were evil and vile, corrupt and did not have any right to belong to society. I had told myself that I could do it this way, know which humans it would be all right to slaughter…I had played God with people's lives, taken and let loose, killed or saved. It really didn't matter which way you saw any of it.
The only thing that mattered, when it came right down to the line, was that I had killed without remorse, without sympathy, and without second-guessing myself. All until it got to be too much death, too many voices silenced, and I could not do it any more. And so, I decided that I wouldn't.
Now Bella, in her own thoughtless way, was tempting me beyond all reason to do that which I had vowed I would never do again. And she didn't even truly understand, so I could not fault her for not realizing just what she was doing to me. By tempting the thirst I had for her blood, by allowing herself to be unconditionally alone with me…she was allowing the monster a golden opportunity, the likes of which it had never encountered before.
Once I had killed a human, it had been all too easy to slip into the habit. Even though I had gone free and clean for many, many years – old habits die hard, and I knew that I was capable of killing. I had done it before, and I did it every time I needed to feed. Murder…once you'd done it, it was far too easy to do it again. Once you'd sipped that sweetest blood, there was no turning back from the undeniable fact that your body would never feel content again, not without that taste on your tongue.
And so, with Bella tempting me every step of the way, I was terrified that I would fall back into murder without being able to stop myself. The roadblocks I had attempted to set up had almost all failed. There was nothing to stop me, should I want to taste her blood. My family couldn't get out here in time – they all put too much faith in my strength, too much stock in my control. They were all certain I wouldn't fail – whereas I was not so sure of myself.
The truck abruptly stopped, and I blinked upon realizing that Bella had pulled onto the shoulder and parked the car. We had arrived. She was pushing open the door, and I followed her lead like an automaton, trying to push my thoughts away as I stepped out of the truck.
I could tell that it was very warm, and without much thought I tugged off my sweater, tossing it into the truck before closing the door. I didn't need it here, even if it did become colder. I wouldn't feel the temperature, and I couldn't get sick.
Pus, leaving behind my sweater was insurance. If I killed Bella, I would barely be able to face my family, least of all her truck. And if my sweater was here, then it could be found and implicate me in her disappearance. Therefore, I would have to keep Bella alive in order to avoid that kind of trouble. It was a weak barrier, and not a very good one – but it was something more than what I had, which was important.
Attempting to ignore the cruel logic in my head that told me one of my family members could grab the sweater, I tried to distract the growling thirst from that tidbit of thought by looking out into the forest. The thick wall of trees before me didn't look threatening, but I felt the pressure on my shoulders at the knowledge that this was it. This was where Isabella Swan's grave might lie – if I wasn't strong enough.
I had to be strong enough. It simply wasn't an option…
"This way," I said, glancing over my shoulder. I was still a bit irked that she hadn't thought to try and protect herself from harm, so I couldn't think of much else to say to her. Instead of trying to find words, I turned back to the forest and began to walk into the tall, dark trees.
"The trail?" I could hear the spike of panic in her voice, and assumed it was about going into the forest. Not about me, of course – she had no sense of safety.
I heard her catching up to me, so I didn't look back to make sure. "I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."
"No trail?"
She sounded so desperate, I couldn't help wanting to reassure her. Setting aside my disapproval over her insane reactions and reasoning, I turned around to reassure her. "I won't let you get lost."
For a moment, her face was blank. Then, slowly, her eyes began to widen and left my face. There was a kind of panic, pain and – something else – flashing in her eyes, and the myriad only grew more tortured as the seconds swiftly ticked by. I had no idea what was causing her reaction.
All I knew was that she looked that way because of me. Probably because it was just hitting her, as we stood here on the edge of a dark forest, that she had agreed to spend the day with me in some place that she didn't even know the location of: that she was alone with a vampire, nonetheless.
The thought that she finally understood something gave me a sense of relief. Yet, at the same time, I hated that look on her face. I knew that she should have had it a long time ago, but I still didn't truly enjoy seeing it despite that knowledge.
Without really considering what I was saying, I quietly asked her, "Do you want to go home?" A part of me wanted her to say 'yes'; the other half wished for the 'no'.
"No." One wish, not granted…
She strode towards me, her face closing off with every step. There was something unsettling about that reaction. "What's wrong?" I gently encouraged her to tell me.
"I'm not a good hiker. You'll have to be very patient." Her voice was monotone now, as if her spirits had just been crushed.
My gut twisted at the sound. I found that I hated it very much, and wanted to bring back some of her former liveliness. "I can be patient – if I make a great effort," I joked. My attempt at lightening the mood fell flat.
Only dejection lit her face, as her smile fell flat. My own grin disappeared as I scrutinized her face for any thought, any emotion, to shine in her eyes.
Whatever she had just realized did me no good. If it was the realization of her own danger, then it was high time something happened. And since that was the only explanation I could formulate, it was what I was going to have to go on. Even though I was still having mixed feelings about that particular issue, I knew what was right.
And so I quietly promised her something that I could only hope I would be able to deliver. "I'll take you home."
To my surprise, her acidic answer was, "If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better start leading the way." That had been entirely unexpected. I frowned, trying to understand. Obviously, I'd miscalculated what she was really thinking about. But I really couldn't think of any other reasons for her reaction.
Completely at a loss, I decided to follow her advice and begin leading the way. There was no way I would broach the topic now: perhaps it would be best left alone. I didn't know if that was for the best, but it was the only answer I could come up with. And it was just going to have to do for now.
Our path took us straight through the trees, on a direct line towards the meadow. I helped her over fallen trees when she needed help, and made sure that we wouldn't run across any animals on our way.
Every time I touched her, Bella's heart jumped: I could hear it clearly. It wasn't helping me in the slightest, but I couldn't do anything about it. I simply had to try my best to ignore that temptation. It was hard, however, to ignore the sound of her heart reacting to my very presence or proximity.
To make up for the rumbling monster in my chest, I never touched her longer than was absolutely necessary. It was so very hard to touch her bare skin – her muscles, her skin, her heat…I could feel it through my palm. And the mere feel of her under my hand made it very difficult to control every sense that demanded I taste her sweet blood.
Whenever our silence got to be too much, and I seriously wondered if I could keep my control, I would ask her a question. She probably didn't realize that my questions kept her talking about herself, helping me paint a clearer picture of her entire being. Like Alice had told Jasper countless times before, if you thought of a human as someone with a life and thoughts and feelings, it was supposedly easier to deny the thirst.
I didn't know how that method really worked for Jasper when I wasn't around. When I was there, he felt inexplicably safer – trusting me to hear his thoughts before he got out of control, and warning him to get a grip on what he was thinking before he lost his cool. But it seemed to be working for me.
When I laughed after hearing the tale about Bella's poor trio of fish, I heard it echo into the trees in a way that I only let myself do when I wasn't around humans. When my family and I were out and alone in the deepest reaches of the forest, I felt safe enough to really let my voice go. Vampires could be rather loud, when we weren't controlling our voices along with the rest of our reactions, instincts and abilities.
Letting myself lose that much of my control inexplicably allowed me to feel even more in control of the instincts that demanded I drink from Bella. As if freeing me up to have more focus, I found my steps getting lighter and my resilient endurance staying high. I knew that Bella had to feel like she was lagging, by now: I knew she wasn't very athletic. She was probably tired.
And so I found my questioning served a second purpose – allowing her to be distracted from the long hike, which was a lot lengthier than I had originally assumed it would be. Then again, whenever I came here, I ran. Walking at a human pace wasn't something I did gladly, but even so I was sure that we would have made more progress than we had. Perhaps it was because it was Bella, and not some other human. She was moving much more slowly than I had anticipated.
All the same, I found that I didn't really mind the speed at which we were traveling. The sun finally broke through the clouds, transforming the dense, olive color under the trees into a brighter shade of green. This meant that when we reached the meadow, it would be in full sunlight – and suddenly, I was finding the idea awkward.
How would Bella react to seeing the glittering inlay on my marble skin? What would she think when she saw just how otherworldly I was? This thought had two possible reactions, of course: she would either stay or the fight-or-flight response would kick in. She would be either amazed or terrified.
And, of course, I was divided about her possible reactions as well. If she stayed, she would be in danger. And if she wanted to leave, I knew that my heart would be broken – as sappy and un-me as it sounded, it was the truth. I did love her, after all. And I didn't know if she felt the same way, at all.
Breaking me out of my musings, Bella asked, "Are we there yet?" When I looked down at her face, her eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl that I could tell, right away, was teasing and not serious. Had she noticed my preoccupation? Either way, I was glad to note that her mood had softened over the course of our hike and she was now asking me questions, instead of me asking her.
"Nearly," I replied, smiling. "Do you see the brightness ahead?" Speaking of it made me realize that it was there, that I had been staring at it for the past few minutes. The meadow was just there: we had almost reached our destination. Anxiety curled in my stomach.
She peered ahead of us, trying to see what she evidently could not. "Um, should I?"
I smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for your eyes," I teased back, careful not to allow any of my nervousness to sink into my voice.
"Time to visit the optometrist," she muttered. I couldn't help the growth of my smile: she was simply far too amusing. Only Bella would think to joke about getting her vision corrected, when comparing herself to a vampire. Only this strange, wonderful young woman…
We made it a few hundred yards before something clicked in her eyes. I had been watching her as we walked, and I continued to observe her as she pulled ahead of me, suddenly eager for the hike. I kept the same pace, allowing her to pull ahead of me and into the meadow.
Silently, I stalked after her through the forest. She didn't seem to realize how this difference in position led me to think of predator hunting prey. For someone who was so intuitive about many things, I didn't know how she could simply not notice how taking the lead had put her in a dangerous place.
Struggling with my instincts, I stopped outside the sunny circle of light, deep in the shade without being too far back for her to spot me. I could have walked out into the sunlight – save dramatics for another day, since my very appearance in the sunlight would be dramatic enough – but I didn't feel fully in control of myself.
Perhaps over my instinct to bite her pale, thin throat, I was in control. But I didn't know how I was going to stay away from her warm body heat for very much longer. Even through the torture of feeling her blood pulsing underneath my fingers, I had felt the warmth from her skin soaking into mine. She was so unearthly warm to my ice-cold body that it felt like exquisite agony in combination with the sound of her steady heartbeat.
I watched her as she walked slowly into the center of the meadow, turning around with wonder in her eyes. She gazed upon everything, soaking it in just like the warm sunlight that tinged her skin golden. And even as there was amazement in her eyes, her face was simply at peace. Relaxed.
In a way, it was more amazing to see that utter relaxation on her face than the astonishment. There was something in the way she felt so safe here, even with me – a monster – waiting in the shadows, which made me even more eager to keep her safe. To keep that expression capable of returning to her face: to let her live.
Suddenly, she seemed to realize that she was alone in the meadow. Her head turned frantically, left and right, as she searched for me among the trees. Finally, her gaze landed on me.
Bella's face was lit with a small, gentle smile that did nothing to dispel the peace already present on her face. She stepped back toward me, obviously intent on bringing me into that circle of sunlight of her. But I was reluctant to do so, knowing that she would react somehow. I slightly dreaded both possibilities.
Her smile widened, meant to encourage me; she stretched out her hand, fingertips curling up slightly as she reached towards me and took another step forward. I held up a hand, warning her to stay back without a single word passing my lips.
Instantly, her eyes grew shaded and uncertain. Hesitation made her arm lower, that crease appear between her brows again. I knew that she would only wait so long before speaking – and before she could try to verbally persuade me, I knew that I had to make my choice.
I could turn around right now, run away from this encounter. Leave her alone in the woods, in danger? No, I couldn't. Then again, I could refuse to step out of the shade. No matter what she did, she couldn't really make me move if I didn't want to leave my spot. But that would accomplish very little, other than making her feel bad. And it was no guarantee for her safety.
Taking a deep breath and trying my best to keep my thirst under control, I finally stepped forward – accepting my decision, and whatever would come of it.
The peace and calm of the meadow was filled with the sound of Bella's heart beating a gentle rhythm. It was the only other sound I could hear, besides the faint pattering of random wildlife in the shadows beyond the outer edges of our circular meadow.
My skin cast rays of reflecting light off into the trees, startling anything alive that was brave enough to try and venture into the sunlight spot in the forest. The only creature brave – or foolhardy – enough to truly come near me was, of course, Bella.
She seemed fascinated by the miniature mirrors that seemed to be set in my skin. Her eyes had grown wide at the sight of them, and I had been unable to keep her from staring at my skin for the past hour or so that we had lain here in the sun.
At least, I was lying in the sun. I could feel the blades of grass bent under my back, and underneath that, the earth. The scene felt so peaceful that every once in a while, I would let a strain of Bella's lullaby drift from my lips into the still day, marring the intense beauty of the afternoon.
She asked me about that, and my only reply was that it was a song too low for her to hear. I wanted her to hear it, yes – but on the piano, with my fingers playing it for her instead of my voice. It sounded infinitely better coming from the musical instrument. And besides which, I knew that if I sang her the song, another one of my reasons for getting her out of this meadow alive would be thrown out the window.
Irrational, I suppose. But I didn't have much to hang on to, even though I felt completely at ease here. I was certainly letting Bella see the relaxation in my loose body, my lazy, casual sprawl across the ground. And yet, appearances can be deceiving: I was still waging a silent war with myself. The only difference was that I was currently winning.
The entire day, I had been with her. We had spent what felt like countless hours at each other's sides, and by now I was so thoroughly permeated with her scent that it was ridiculous. And I knew that I could control myself, as long as nothing tempted me to lose that control. I could do this: I was slowly gaining confidence with each second that passed.
A sudden, feathery-light touch on my arm pulled me back to earth, out of my thoughts. The heavenly warmth against my pale skin inflamed my masochism: I could feel that wonderful heart – something I had long been addicted to – but also her pulse, through that one finger that she traced on the back of my hand.
As soon as she had touched me, I opened my eyes. Heavy lidded against the afternoon glare, I watched her face. Like a mirror, my skin reflected some of the light back upon her own face, causing an intriguing glow. That glow only served to remind me even more strongly of exactly how inhuman I looked at this moment.
When she lifted her eyes to mine, my mouth opened of its own accord. "I don't scare you?" Attempting to sound teasing, I knew I only partly covered up the pure curiosity in my voice.
"No more than usual," was the response. I smiled widely for a second: so I did scare her, somewhat. That was good. That might keep her safe.
She inched closer, her hand now tracing along my forearm. Her fingers weren't quite steady against my arm – then again, I didn't quite feel steady, either. I had to close my eyes at the sensation. "Do you mind?" I heard her ask, as if afraid she was crossing some kind of line.
"No." I didn't open my eyes, too caught up in the pleasure of feeling the heat racing from her skin into mine. "You can't imagine how that feels," I added, sighing.
Tingles raced across my pale, cold skin as she ran her fingers up my arm. When I felt her other hand reaching for mine, I opened my eyes. Seeing the way her arm was twisting, I knew her intent was to flip my hand over. Instead of waiting for her fingers to make contact with my skin – too eager to feel her touch again – I flipped my arm over myself.
Disconcerted, her movements froze for a second and I realized that I had moved too fast. "Sorry," I murmured, allowing my eyes to drop closed again. I found it far too easy to let my usual inhibitions around humans drop, whenever she was with me. "It's too easy to be myself with you." It was also too easy for me to lose myself, but I wasn't about to tell her that.
Allowing her to lift my hand, I tried to simply enjoy the feeling of her heated skin against mine. I could feel her turning it, probably manipulating the sun's glittering effect on the surface of my cold, dead skin. For a long moment, I let her touch me: then, I couldn't resist allowing my eyes to open for the third time to watch her.
Her long hair curled around her neck, slightly blocking my view of her throat as she bent over my hand. Intent on her observations, she didn't seem to notice my watchful gaze. She turned my hand this way and that underneath her warm fingertips, eyes close to my skin as she stared in fascination at the reflective surface.
I wondered what was going through her mind at this moment. And before I could form a filter between my brain and my mouth, I was speaking. "Tell me what you're thinking." Her eyes snapped to mine, blinking slowly. "It's still so strange for me, not knowing."
Her lips curved gently into a smile. "You know, the rest of us feel that way all the time."
"It's a hard life." One that I wished I could have. What I wouldn't give to be unable to hear all the random, private thoughts of everyone around me. What I wouldn't give just to be human, not a monster, for that matter… I had noticed that she didn't give me an answer, however, and tried to think of that instead of my own wants and wishes. "But you didn't tell me."
"I was wishing I could know what you were thinking…" I could see the hesitation in her eyes, could hear it in her voice.
"And?" I prompted, wanting and waiting to hear what she had to say.
"I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn't afraid." The thought of her fear had the monster in me perking its ears up, tilting its head in interest. Fearful prey was more delicious – but I had to fight it. I tried to draw my thoughts somewhere else, and landed on the second most obvious interpretation of her admission.
Finally, there was an admission of a feeling that she should have begun showing so long ago! And yet, even as the words left her lips, I felt dissatisfied. At first, I didn't understand why I should feel that way: this was what I had wanted, wasn't it? For her to fear me, and thus run away – to safety? Sanity?
But of course: that was what I had wanted before. Now, my priorities had changed: my feelings had changed. "I don't want you to be afraid." And that was one of the many truths that now existed inside of me, alongside the other instinctual longing I had long carried in the back of my mind: the longing for my prey to be fearful, to make the chase exhilarating.
I had to keep reminding that part of myself that Bella was not going to be my prey. I had to make sure of it. I had to control that part of my self. And as I told her that I didn't want her to be afraid, I knew that Bella had to pick up some of the undertone there. I truly wanted to be able to reassure her that there was nothing to fear – but I knew very well that was untrue.
Even now, the monster inside of me – which had been reduced to pouting growls – was readying itself to unleash a roar of fury. She was simply too close, too calm: it was too tempting. And then she had to go and say, "Well, that's not exactly the fear I meant, though that's certainly something to think about."
I could not continue this conversation while reclining lazily along the ground before her. Twisting to my side, I propped myself up on my right arm. Facing her, I could see her face more clearly, without the sun shining in a brilliant halo around her head.
Of course, this brought her whole body closer to my face, which was a very bad thing. I froze completely after I was settled, knowing that any movement to bring me closer to that pounding pulse would inevitably break the leashes I was using to tightly restrain the growing thirst that compelled me to attack and quench that fire in my throat.
"What are you afraid of, then?" I whispered, trying to make her begin speaking. I knew that if she told me something – anything – even with this proximity, I just might be able to concentrate solely on her voice. Even a tiny moment of complete concentration on something other than my thirst might give me the strength to block up that monster once more.
I heard her drawing in breath before she moved. In that instant, I realized that I had single-handedly placed us both in a dangerous situation without thinking. I had been so focused on keeping something inside me at bay that I hadn't even thought of what it was about myself physically that was designed to pull prey towards me.
Her inhalation was undoubtedly because of my scent, either cast upon the air from my breath or simply because she was close enough to me to catch a whiff of my scent. Whichever way, the only thing that was clear was what a vampire's intoxicating scent caused as an involuntary reaction in a human.
She leaned towards me. In leaning towards me, where I lay upon the ground, she easily – and unknowingly – caused her hair to fall over her shoulder. And her throat was completely exposed to me, her scent floating off of her in intense waves that were suddenly no longer muffled by her locks of dark, thick hair.
Her swinging hair sent her scent directly into my face – and, foolishly, I hadn't even though to stop my carefully regulated breathing. I had been in complete control of my lungs all morning, and now the careful pace of breath that I had set myself on was betraying me. In turn, I inhaled her scent just the way she had taken in mine.
My mind almost went blank in that instant, terrifyingly similar to what happened in our Biology class. Everything was moving much slower than normal, and I had a snap decision to make. And so, I chose to run. Before she could possibly have blinked, I had placed twenty feet of meadow between the two of us, plunging myself deep into the shadows of a tree.
But it still wasn't enough.
Awakened, my thirst was more intense than it had ever been, even with the distance separating us from one another. My hearing was magnified, to the point where I could practically feel each slight movement of her heart as it throbbed in my ears.
And the expression on her face certainly didn't help any against my overwhelming, instinctual need to feed. The shock and hurt were eerily reminiscent of the expressions on my victims from all those years ago, when I had rebelled. If it were a little darker, if she were running from me and looking over her shoulder to see my face – yes, then her face would be a mirror echo of one of those humans I'd hunted.
"I'm…sorry…Edward."
Her voice echoed through a haze of bloodlust into my head, snapping me to awareness long enough for an answer to slip through my lips. "Give me a moment." Yes, a moment to try and regain what little control was slowly slipping away from me under the onslaught of longing.
I knew that denying myself for so long would eventually build up into too much to handle. After all, you could only resist so much before your defenses were too weak to take the pressure any longer, before you were unable to help wondering if it would really be so terrible to take what you wanted. Pressure built until it was too strong. All walls crumbled eventually. I knew this: these were facts. Who was I to deny them? They were true.
My feet were moving forward slowly, before I even realized what I was doing. Would it be so terrible? If I had a heart, it would have begun to pound in excitement. No one knew where she was; no one knew she was with me. Only my family knew – and a few of them had murdered before. And besides, they couldn't get here in time to stop me, only help me cover up the crime…
I couldn't remove my eyes from hers, even as I sank to the ground before her. It would still be a crime – a terrible sin – and I knew it. But then again, I was a soulless monster, wasn't I? Already destined for hell, should I ever come to die…what would one more death on my cosmic balance sheet matter?
I took two slow, deep breaths, inadvertently drawing more of her scent into my lungs. My head was already swimming with that scent, already flooded with longing and desire. That blood, the sweetest I had ever tasted – just within reach. All I had to do was give in. But I couldn't let her know, no…
Plastering a reasonably believable smile on my face, I told her, "I am so very sorry." That I was harboring such a lust for her blood: that I was seriously contemplating just taking it because of the sweet, irresistible temptation… Even in the midst of this unsettling, bloodlust-driven turmoil in my brain, I managed to formulate a real apology.
"Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?" That I made mistakes, too? And taking her out here, exposing her to my darker side, was one of my worst? That she just might not make it out of this meadow alive – or at all?
She nodded once, her smile faltering in light of what she didn't seem to realize was no teasing comment. Slowly, I caught a second scent on the air, which was accompanied by a slight increase in the tempo of her heartbeat. Adrenaline was pulsing through her veins now: she was afraid.
My lips curled into something less falsely genuine, but not quite the predatory sneer that I could feel trying to break through. I knew the truth of what I was saying, and in knowing that I wasn't lying to her, I hated myself. I hated what I was even more, and even as I could feel every muscle in my body protesting the last fragments of control I had – keeping myself from pouncing.
"I'm the world's best predator, aren't I? Everything about me invites you in – my voice, my face, even my smell." Which was just what had broken my rigid denial in the first place. "As if I need any of that!"
Leaping away from her, I circled the meadow – like the hunter I was, taking in her vulnerable position in the center of the circle. I moved too fast for her to see, but could still watch every nerve on her body fire to life. She twitched, as if sensing me circling her – leaving her trapped – until I came to a stop under that same tree I had run to, to hide by.
"As if you could outrun me." She would never reach the car in time, if I were to decide that I didn't need to fight myself anymore.
I could see in her eyes that there was still disbelief – not the kind that said she knew what I was telling her. The kind that said she was confused and didn't know what I was trying to tell her.
That was fine. There was yet another physical weapon I could use to demonstrate just how dangerous a position she was in. Reaching out, I ripped a branch from the trunk of a nearby tree. I carelessly tossed it into another tree, not needing to look to see that it had shattered, shaking the tree it hit upon contact.
Then I was in front of her again, my feet carrying me there without command from me. And I said, "As if you could fight me off," telling both of us that this was it. Her grave, her death: my murder, my death. Our deaths.
But oh, the temptation that was flowing through me freely with my walls battered and torn away! I couldn't help allowing my eyes to linger on hers, her face, and her rigid body. Her eyes shone with fear, and I could nearly taste it in the air. She was terrified, and I could sense it. And it was exhilarating.
This was what it was to be a vampire, a predator.
This was what I had tried to deny for so long. This was what I feared, and hated, and I reminded myself of that – trying, desperately, to break free of the snapping, snarling beast within me. This…this was only right, the only way I should, realistically, live. I was a monster and she was my prey. How else should we live – no, exist, since we didn't live? If we behaved the way we were designed, she should have died that first day of Biology…
As if I was surfacing from the drowning depths of a lake, I recalled what had stopped me. The two faces I had seen in my head – my monstrous self, with ruby-red eyes. And my father, the man who had taught me that it was possible to be a monster because of what I was, but not a murderer because I was a monster.
This was not right and this was not supposed to happen. I remembered that. I recalled what I had told myself that first day of biology, when her scent had hit me so hard I had found it nearly impossible to stop from killing her right on the spot. Hadn't I entertained the notion of killing her then, too? Planned it out in my head, thought of it while trying to distract my mind from the longest hour of my life?
Rationality was slow in coming, but I struggled for it. Was it right to kill this human girl – Bella, I told myself determinedly – just because I was experiencing a fatal lapse in control and judgment? No. She was a living, breathing woman – a woman I happened to love. I couldn't kill her.
I loved her.
Memory of my recent actions snapped back into my head, and I felt the sadness on my face, which had slowly replaced the predatory, monstrous expression of thirst. What had I done? I gazed at Bella now through different eyes, the same eyes I had tried to look at her with for so long. Not the face of a soulless demon, but of a man trapped in a curse. But a man, nonetheless: not a predator.
She was afraid. I knew it; I could see it. I knew that I deserved it. But how I wanted to wipe it away from her face, recalling what I had said and done. Nothing graphic, mostly a showcase of the dangers I presented to her – but enough to show how inhuman I was. Enough to terrify her: to make her wish to avoid me for the rest of her life.
I no longer wanted her to leave, but not because of my thirst. No, that thirst was being bricked back with titanium to the back of my mind. It was still there, but I was no longer letting it control my thoughts. I could hardly believe I had slipped as much as I had, allowing it so much reign over my words and actions. What was I thinking?
Simply put, I wasn't thinking. But that was neither here nor there: the concern was what I had said to Bella, done to make her afraid. I hated it: I hated myself. I wanted to reassure her. "Don't be afraid," I murmured. "I promise…" I couldn't. I'd promised she would go home – look how close I came to breaking that promise. I couldn't promise her anything. "I swear not to hurt you."
Even as I said it, I knew that I needed just as much convincing as Bella that I meant what I was saying. How could I be sure I wasn't going to let my instincts run amok in my body again? I thought I was in control until the dam burst, through one tiny, accidental moment. I couldn't control everything, no matter how much I wanted to.
But I could reassure her right now, try and draw us both back to what was before that dreadful situation. "Don't be afraid." I moved slowly, trying my hardest to keep from moving too fast and startling her again. I wanted her to feel safe again, but I had double motives to keep from scaring her again. If I did scare her, I'd smell it: if I smelled it, my fragile control might, once again, splinter.
Then I was sitting in front of her, our faces barely a foot apart. I could handle this. I wasn't going to break from this. All the same, I didn't take deep breaths just quite yet, keeping them shallow. And I didn't touch her, making absolutely certain that I had enough control to sit this close to her – touch was out of the question, at least for the moment.
"Please forgive me," I said, my tone slightly formal – but hopefully a bit reassuring in its own right. "I can control myself. You caught me off guard. But I'm on my best behavior now." She didn't say anything: just stared. I hated seeing her face so blank and wary.
I wanted to see something else in her eyes besides the draining-away fear. "I'm not thirst today, honestly." I winked, trying to make her laugh. Surprisingly, I succeeded. It was shaky and breathless, and more instinctual than anything else, but it was something. But she still needed more to reassure her completely.
Glancing between us, I saw that her hands were still draped on her lap from where they had fallen when I'd torn away from her. Testing myself, I slowly reached out towards her, thinking that I was in control enough to attempt to bring us back to that careful touching stage that I had been able to handle before my outburst.
Settling my hand between hers, I asked, "Are you all right?" I wanted her to begin talking to me, or at least showing that she was okay. She still seemed slightly catatonic, which worried me. Had I scared her too much? I thought that fear would be good for her; that fear would keep her safe. But I loathed being the cause of it.
I watched her carefully as she looked down at our hands, clasped together. Then she looked back up at my eyes: I did my best to try and convey how sorry I was in our connecting gaze. Then her eyes traveled back down to our hands, and – startling me for the second time – she deliberately went back to tracing aimless patterns with her fingertips.
My smile couldn't be hidden when her gaze was drawn back up to mine. With my own deliberation, I attempted to start a topic back up again. "So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?"
"I honestly can't remember," she sighed, her expression completely forgiving. There was no resentment or aloofness brought on by the memory of fear.
But I still felt guilty, ashamed that I had broken from something so little and fixed myself all too late. "I think we were talking about why you were afraid, besides the obvious reason." I hadn't received an answer before she'd leaned in too far, exposing too much of that sweetly alluring throat.
"Oh, right," she murmured, as if just remembering. And perhaps she had just recalled what I had asked of her.
"Well?" I prompted when she had remained silent for a long moment.
And still, she didn't answer. Instead, her gaze was locked on our hands again. I could barely concentrate on her when that warmth was so intoxicatingly there, when she was touching me with fingers that felt like fire. And yet, I was still in control of myself. The walls I had built back up were stronger and sturdier than before: amazing, considering that these were constructed to quickly while the others were added onto over the course of the past few months. Perhaps it was the numerous additions that made the previous barriers weaker…
My metaphor was running away with me, distracting me from the intent and purpose with which I had questioned Bella. I longed for an answer, which I was unable to receive since she was unwilling to speak. As much as I sometimes disliked my ability, I longed for its use now. "How easily frustrated I am," I sighed aloud. My ability was really far too much of a crutch for me: I depended on its use more than I reasonably should. I just wanted to know what was on her mind so badly.
Somehow, my words prompted a response from Bella. I watched her intently as she said, "I was afraid…because, for, well, obvious reasons, I can't stay with you. And I'm afraid that I'd like to stay with you, much more than I should." That took a little bit of decoding, but an assumption clicked in place.
Immortality. Bella had already revealed that she liked me, 'too much'. And she wanted to stay with me – not here in the meadow, but in a much wider sense of the words. The only problem was that I was going to exist forever, and she was a human. She would die. The thought made my 'heart' twist.
Something much more pertinent came to mind, and my words came slow as I processed it. "Yes. That is something to be afraid of, indeed. Wanting to be with me. That's really not in your best interest." She would be so much safer if that desire was not met. Her forehead creased into an unhappy frown at my words.
I wasn't done yet, either. "I should have left long ago," I sighed. I should have stayed away, in Denali. "I should leave now." After, of course, I was assured that Bella would arrive home safely. "But I don't know if I can." Because I was trapped in my own web of denials, reasons and realizations…I was stuck.
"I don't want you to leave," she mumbled. She didn't look at me, but I had the feeling that it was a bit of embarrassment that had her looking at our hands all over again.
I shook my head. "Which is exactly why I should," I tried to make her understand, but knew instantly that I could say all I wanted. It would still be a lost cause, on both our parts. "But don't worry," I told her softly. "I'm essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."
"I'm glad."
A shudder flew down my spine at those words. A living sensation in the back of my mind, behind those walls, snarled. "Don't be!" Prey was not wise to enjoy a predator stalking them. I withdrew my hand, attempting to emphasize my point. "It's not only your company I crave! Never forget that. Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else."
And that was diving off the deep end, through the boundaries of the knowledge Bella had, and the information I had yet to share with her. My gaze had drifted to the forest as I stopped myself from looking at her, from feeling terribly from startling – hurting – her with the truth that she simply had to hear.
She was silent for a moment, and I felt her eyes on the side of my face as I struggled not to look at her. How was I supposed to tell her of the lure of her blood over all other human scents? I knew she was going to say what she did. "I don't think I understand exactly what you mean – by that last part anyway."
A small smile flew to my lips as I looked back at her, seeing that perplexed yet determined expression on her face. I had seen that look on her in school, when she was learning something new. Curiosity. Even in the midst of danger, there was a typical-Bella-face.
"How do I explain? And without frightening you again…hmmmm" I didn't want to frighten her purposefully, at least not this time. She simply should know why I was so much more dangerous to her, and whether or not she was scared was her own prerogative. Without thinking about it, I sought out one source of serenity: her hands.
When she clasped them around mine, I couldn't help sighing, "That's amazingly pleasant, the warmth." Looking down at her tiny hands surrounding mine, I soon looked away to try and create some kind of explanation that she would understand.
"You know how everyone enjoys different flavors? Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?" She nodded, but I felt like grimacing. The first metaphor that came to mind, and it was food? "Sorry about the food analogy – I couldn't think of another way to explain." She smiled, far too accepting and interested. My returning smile was rueful, and I tried again.
"You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he'd gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic." The symbolism between my 'recovering' from my rebellion was something only I could connect in my explanation, but I felt slightly uncomfortable saying it even though I knew Bella did not understand it.
"Now let's say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac – and filled the room with its warm aroma – how do you think he would fare then?" I stared at her for a long minute, waiting to see understanding dawn in her eyes. It didn't – which wasn't completely unexpected. My description wasn't nearly strong enough to convey what was really happening here.
Bella's scent wasn't something that was pure pleasure to draw in. It wasn't a wonderful, consequence-free indulgence. Any gratification from drinking her blood would immediately be overshadowed by what I had done. It was serious – and it was deadly. "Maybe that's not the right comparison," I said slowly. "Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead." The passing thought became a statement of fact, one that clicked and fit perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece.
"So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" Her tone was teasing.
I appreciated the effort to lightening the mood. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin." I was pleased, oddly enough, that I had found a way to explain the addiction I had to her in terms that she understood. A way that she was capable of acknowledging was serious and hard on my resistance.
And, of course, she was still curious. "Does that happen often?"
Looking away again, I chose my words carefully. I never liked to speak of what I had heard in my family's minds, since I heard so much more than they told me. But in this case, it was simply a matter of telling Bella just what she needed to hear in an answer.
"I spoke to my brothers about it. To Jasper, every one of you is much the same. He's the most recent to join our family." Which was saying something, considering how long we had all been together. "It's a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn't had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor."
That was true, but it was only half the story. His lack of strength in our lifestyle was also because he had lived the first years of his vampire existence by taking a human life whenever he was thirsty: he hadn't built up control over himself when he was young, and so he had to learn it when he was older.
I glanced at Bella, knowing that I was keeping some of the truth from her and feeling uneasy about it. I felt almost like she would call me on it and demand to know what I was hiding from her. "Sorry," I said, hoping that she would think I was apologizing for the references to scent and taste – not for keeping a large part of Jasper's past from her knowledge.
"I don't mind," she was quick to say. "Please don't worry about offending me, or frightening me, or whichever. That's the way you think. I can understand, or I can try to at least. Just explain however you can." She never ceased to amaze me. And I was thankful that she accepted what I had told her, so I pressed on.
There was a lot more where that had come from. I drew in a deep breath, careful to look up at the sky and not as her as I did so. If I were looking at her, it would be harder for my control than just inhaling that sweet scent so strongly. Thankful that my control held, I pressed on.
"So Jasper wasn't sure if he'd ever come across someone who was as…appealing as you are to me. Which makes me think not." He would have known: I was sure of it. "Emmett has been on the wagon longer," the 'vegetarian' wagon, at least, I amended. "So to speak, and he understood what I meant. He says twice, for him, once stronger than the other."
"And for you?" she questioned.
"Never." Until Bella came into my life, I had never even known something like this was possible. Actually, I had thought a lot of things were impossible until we came back to Forks.
I should have known what she would ask next. I should have known that her natural curiosity would take us to a place that I hadn't even though about, but instinctually wanted to avoid in conversation around her. "What did Emmett do?"
My hands tightened into fists almost instantly, and I couldn't look at her again. How was I to tell her that my brother had failed what I was attempting to overcome? What good would the knowledge do either of us? Besides make us both doubt that I could keep myself from attacking her…
"I guess I know," Bella said, breaking the silence.
And then I couldn't keep my face turned away from her, and I needed to hear her say – something. Anything. I didn't even know what I wanted to hear her say when I pleaded with my eyes, my tone and my words. "Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon, don't we?"
"What are you asking? My permission?" Her voice was sharp, startlingly so. Whatever it was I had wanted to hear, I knew that wasn't it. "I mean, is there no hope, then?"
And that was certainly not what I had wanted her to think. I didn't know what I had asked of her, but whatever answer I had wanted to hear – and didn't know – was going out the window as I struggled to fix this. "No, no! Of course there's hope! I mean, of course I won't…" But I almost had. "It's different for us." I tried to convince us both. "Emmett…these were strangers he happened across. It was a long time ago, and he wasn't as…practiced, as careful, as he is now."
There was hope. Already, it was a miracle that she had survived for this long when the first day I had met her should have – could have – been her last day alive. Seeing her walking, talking, conversing with me and with others…that was more than Emmett had accomplished. I felt terrible for thinking it, but at the same time it was the truth.
And, being Bella, she had to come up with another query. "So if we'd met…oh, in a dark alley or something…"
"It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and –" I looked away, unable to see her eyes as I confessed to this. She should hear it, though: I had decided. "When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Carlisle has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn't been denying my thirst for the last, well, too many years," I edited, uncertain how she would take my real age and past in light of what little she knew. "I wouldn't have been able to stop myself," I concluded, voicing what I had known for a long while.
She had no way of knowing that reminding myself of that day had stopped her death today. Glancing at her, aware of the grim set of my face, I remembered her expression as I had seen it through the haze of longing for that blood. "You must have thought I was possessed."
"I couldn't understand why. How you could hate me so quickly…" I knew what she had seen on my face, and hastened to explain to her.
"To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me. The fragrance coming off your skin…I thought it would make me deranged that first day. In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone."
It was less than that, I knew. And I remembered clearly my first plan: not to even bother taking her away, but to commit a mass slaughter of the class. I certainly wasn't going to tell her about that. "And I fought them each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow…"
Again, I prayed she wouldn't pick up the fact that I was keeping information from her. There was no need to make her feel like her mere presence had also endangered the other students. Instead, as I looked down at her, I was reminded of how insane this young girl truly was as I told her, "You would have come." It was meant as a warning.
She didn't seem to take it as one. "Without a doubt." She didn't mean it in the way that said she knew how persuasive I could have been.
Frowning at our hands again, I knew that I couldn't stop myself from telling her more. It was like she had pressed a button in me, hard enough that it was now stuck and I could not keep the information and thoughts in my head any longer. I simply had to talk, to get everything off of my chest.
I recalled the remainder of that day. "And then, as I tried to rearrange my schedule in a pointless attempt to avoid you, you were there – in that close, warm little room, the scent was maddening. I so very nearly took you then. There was only one other frail human there – so easily dealt with."
My censorship faltered slightly, slipping this information to her. She shuddered, twice. Despite her reaction, I couldn't help continuing.
"But I resisted. I don't know how. I forced myself not to wait for you, not to follow you home from the school. It was easier outside, when I couldn't smell you anymore, to think clearly, to make the right decision. I left the others near home – I was too ashamed to tell them how weak I was." Actually, it was mostly Esme whom I couldn't face, but I also hadn't told everything to Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett. Alice only knew some of it. "They only knew something was very wrong – and then I went straight to Carlisle, at the hospital, to tell him I was leaving."
She started, obviously taken aback. I knew she hadn't even realized why I had been missing from school for the rest of the week, and knew I had to fill in the blanks for her.
"I traded cars with him – he had a full tank of gas and I didn't want to stop. I didn't dare to go home, to face Esme. She wouldn't have let me go without a scene. She would have tried to convince me that it wasn't necessary…" She would have said anything to keep our family together, anything to keep what happened in 1927 from happening again.
"By the next morning I was in Alaska." The memories of that night drive were of a long, seemingly endless night full of darkness and doubt. "I spent two days there, with some old acquaintances…" She didn't need to know about the Denali coven yet: this narrative was about something else entirely, not openings for her questions. I had to get this off my chest.
And I admitted something that I hadn't said, in so many words, when I arrived home. "But I was homesick. I hated knowing I'd upset Esme, and the rest of them, my adopted family. In the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I'd dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant little girl" – not so insignificant to me now, I realized with a grin – "to chase me from the place I wanted to be?
"So I came back…" That was undoubtedly one of my more foolish decisions. If I had stayed away, she would be completely safe from me. She would have her own life, outside of my own. But now we were connected, however one-sided, by this love I carried. I didn't know if she felt the same strength of attraction, but I did. And it was irresistible in its own right.
"I took precautions, hunting, feeding more than usual before seeing you again." It was absolutely necessary. "I was sure that I was strong enough to treat you like any other human." What a joke that was. "I was arrogant about it." I should have known that I wasn't that strong. I might have been a vampire, but this was a vice I had to fight with all my strength.
"It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn't simply read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn't used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Jessica's mind…her mind isn't very original, and it was annoying to have to stoop to that." Much more than annoying, considering her less-than-loyal friendship with Bella. "And then I couldn't know if you really meant what you said. It was all extremely irritating."
Recalling some of my motivations for our conversation, I added, "I wanted you to forget my behavior that first day, if possible, so I tried to talk with you like I would with any person." Except, of course, we usually avoided trapping ourselves in conversation with other humans, at least in school. The children that wandered through the halls of high school were some of the most infuriating, exasperating experiences I had ever encountered. It was a world of thought and confliction, all compressed into one building – a hellish experience.
But there was another reason for talking to Bella besides that less-than-stable one. "I was eager actually, hoping to decipher some of your thoughts. But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expressions…and every now and then you would stir the air with your hand or your hair, and the scent would stun me again…" Maybe 'stun' wasn't the right word, but it was as close as I was willing to admit to her.
And then… I sighed. "Of course, then you were nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment – because if I hadn't saved you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don't think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, 'Not her'."
I closed my eyes as I remembered it. That terrifying event, and the horrible fight that had followed. It had certainly not gone the way I had hoped, any of it, but then again – what had I been hoping for? There were always consequences, I told myself grimly. I couldn't have saved Bella without her wanting to know how or why – I knew that now.
But at the time, I hadn't thought of what she would think after the fact. I hadn't considered what kind of person she was, and what her curiosity would lead her to discover. I could only see her body, in my mind's eye, being crushed. And I had known I could not stand by and watch it happen.
Typically, she had a question and prompted me to continue my monologue. "In the hospital?"
I looked at her as I told her the truth. "I was appalled." At my thoughtless actions: never at saving her life. "I couldn't believe I had put us in danger after all, put myself in your power – you of all people. As if I needed another motive to kill you." It slipped out without thought, without hesitation. As if I were speaking to one of my family – and not the object of danger and desire herself.
We both flinched at my word choice; I pressed on past it. "But it had the opposite effect," I reassured her, reminded myself of what had happened. "I fought with Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper when they suggested that now was the time…" The time to kill her: the time to do something about this problematic human. I couldn't tell her all that was said.
Just another half-truth: "The worst fight we're ever had. Carlisle sided with me, and Alice." Alice, because of her own little agenda: her own assumptions and visions of a future I was determined could not be. "Esme told me to do whatever I had to in order to stay."
"All the next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you kept your word." I hadn't known her then for the loyal person I now knew she was. "I didn't understand you at all. But I knew that I couldn't become more involved with you. I did my very best to stay as far from you as possible." As per my agreement and decision with my family… "And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair…it hit me as hard as the very first day."
But now, she was no longer some threat to my sanity – her, herself: her scent was still a maddening torture. Bella, mind, body and soul, was no longer something I feared. Now I knew why I feared her so, during those earlier days of our relationship.
She held so much power over me, that I was sure it was only a matter of time before something unforgivable happened. And even though I had control over myself now, I didn't fully trust in that. I was still a danger, and I wasn't the only thing in this world that was a threat. But right now, I was the worst threat.
I turned to her, locking my eyes on her face and memorizing it. "And for all that, I'd have fared better if I had exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here – with no witnesses and nothing to stop me – I were to hurt you." Because I loved her, and that was all the simple truth I needed to know that I couldn't bear to hurt her.
She didn't see what I meant with that insight I had thought applied to everything. "Why?" Or maybe she just wanted to hear it all from my own lips. That was fine: it was something I felt like I wanted to do for her, whether she had wanted to hear it or not.
Carefully, I sounded out her full name. "Isabella." Without thinking, again, I brushed my hand lightly over her hair – soft enough not to kill her with one stroke, but not so feather light that it wasn't even a touch. Even her hair was soaked with her warmth. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me."
I couldn't look at her as I admitted what I had envisioned – partly dreaded, partly anticipating since I knew that it meant I had drunken my fill of that sweet blood. "The thought of you, still, white, cold…to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses…it would be unendurable."
And when I looked up at her, the rest of the words slipped out without my permission. "You are the most important thing to me now." Not even that. "The most important thing to me ever." Once it was out, there was no taking it back – but I didn't want to. Telling her that truth made me feel lighter, freer.
She looked down, away from me. I could see her take a few breaths and knew that she was trying to find her own words. That was enough to keep embarrassment from welling up in me. All the same, I waited anxiously, like one of those male children who had admitted a crush on a female. I didn't like the sensation, not knowing what she was going to say to me.
Then, finally, she was saying, "You already know how I feel, of course. I'm here…which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you." My heart soared – just as my lips twitched in a grimace. She added, frowning, "I'm an idiot."
My stomach clenched before I realized that she wasn't saying she should leave, that she shouldn't have come with me. Just a statement of truth as we both now knew it to be. But it was the thought that she reciprocated my feelings that made me lighthearted, laughing out, "You are an idiot."
When she met my eyes, she joined in the laughter. And I knew that this love was sure. It was no longer a passing assumption in my head, an uncertain thought of 'probably'. I was no longer holding back on myself as I watched her amusement, released from her mouth in joy.
My reservations on the possibilities of 'yes' or 'no' answers to my love for her…they were gone with the wind, whipping away from me faster than I could draw them back. There was no denial for my feelings. I wondered how I had ever tried to deny what I felt, stronger than anything I had ever before experienced.
"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…" I murmured, unable to keep the thought to myself. I watched as her eyes darted away from mine, and she blushed. And smiled. Pleased.
Then she sighed. "What a stupid lamb." It was another statement of fact.
I had one of my own, which summed up everything – from my refusal to see it, to my complicated actions that lead to this point, to everything I did while near Bella, or which involved Bella… "What a sick, masochistic lion."
I was a fool. A fool in love…but a zebra couldn't change its stripes. I was the idiot here, not Bella. I could have refused to offer her this companionship, held myself aloof from her prying eyes and interested inquiries. There was so much I could have done to prevent this, including keeping the denial as strong as my barriers against my instincts. But I hadn't. I'd tried, but I had failed.
And, stupidly, I was happy that I hadn't succeeded.
A/N – To Be Continued….TOMORROW!